And Now She's Gone(80)

Hank said, “Hey.”

She tried out a smile, but her lips mangled that attempt.

He pulled her into his arms. He smelled like mint and strawberries. “I thought you’d never get here.”

“Traffic.”

He pointed to the base of the sign, where a brown paper bag sat beside a bouquet of roses. “I brought wine and Thai for dinner. You’ll have to heat it up, though.”

With that mangled smile of hers stowed away for future failed attempts, Gray asked, “Why are you here?” Funny—hours ago, Nick had asked her the same question.

Hank shoved his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, I got some explaining to do, huh? But can we go to your place? I need to … you know … use the restroom. It’s been a long afternoon.”

And so she let him in. And as he used her bathroom, she put the cartons of mint basil beef, Thai chicken, and steamed rice into the microwave. Then she slipped the bottle of white wine into the freezer for a quick chill.

“That’s a fifty-dollar bottle,” Hank said, rejoining her.

“Can’t wait to try it.”

The refrigerator coughed.

Hank said, “You should make management fix that.”

She grunted, still not saying much as they took their cartons and the barely chilled bottle of wine into the solarium. There, his plastic fork dipped into her carton without permission. Sean had done that same thing—he’d cut pieces of her rib eye steak for himself or take her last hot wing. Sometimes he’d sip from her cocktail. When she made faces at him or requested that he ask first, because that was the polite thing to do, he’d always snap, “I’m paying for it, right?”

Now, Hank’s fork in her chicken made her skin blister. I paid for it, right?

“You’re mad,” Hank said, nodding.

Gray cocked an eyebrow.

“I’m not sure you know this…” He drained his glass, then filled it with more wine. “When we first met, I thought that I didn’t have a chance with you. Doesn’t help that I’ve been married before and it didn’t end so good. Obviously.”

Gray sipped wine and kept her gaze on her guest.

“It hurt, divorcing Cara, and I…” He winced. “I didn’t want to hurt like that again. And then I saw you, and everything, the past, it didn’t matter.” He touched her knee. “You’re beautiful, but you’re also strong and funny and sexy and … different now. I made the mistake of letting you in. You’re probably saying that, too, but for a different reason—”

Gray said, “Yeah.”

“This. Us.” He pointed to her and then back to him. “Scared me. I went into this … Doesn’t matter. I’m sorry. About everything.”

Gray’s phone rang from the small patio table. Nick was calling.

Hank took both of her hands in his. “I think we deserve another chance.”

The wine’s effects were dulling her anger. The heat of his hold was pulling her down.

Surrender, Dorothy.

Hank kissed her cheek. “What do you think of Tahiti?”

Gray’s heart creaked open. “I hear it’s beautiful.” She let her fingers scratch his head.

“You’ve never been?” He almost looked surprised.

“No.” Not in this life or in her last.

He came close enough that their noses touched. “Wanna go with me?”

Her mind swirled with confusion, confetti caught in a tornado.

“It’s still the summer. We can—”

Someone knocked on the door. The video doorbell app bonged.

Hank and Gray both looked toward the living room.

He said, “Ignore it.”

Another knock.

The app’s feed was too small for her to see who was visiting.

Gray scrunched her eyebrows. “I need to get that.”

Hank grabbed her wrist with one hand and used his other hand to hold her knee. “C’mon, babe. Whoever it is will go—”

The hair on her neck and arms bristled. She glared at his hands now keeping her there …

One. Two. Three. Four.… Five.

She rose from the chair and toppled her glass of wine.

Hank, pissed, sat back in the chair.

“And that’s why I’m not going to Tahiti with you,” Gray said, striding to the door under his angry gaze. She peeped into the peephole, then opened the door.

Nick stood there in trainers and a sweatshirt. “I’m here for my biscuits.”

Seeing him made the hard shell she’d just tucked into as thin as silk.

Nick’s eyes skipped from her face to the living room behind her. “What’s up?” He was pretending that there was nothing to see over her shoulder.

Gray said, “Just … dinner.”

Nick shook his head. “You’re … busy, and I was just…” He held a bottle of top-shelf vodka and a jar of olives.

“Oh. Yeah. I … well…”

“Everything good?”

She looked back over her shoulder.

Hank was now standing in the living room. A dick move, to show off his dick and to let Nick know that this was what he thought it was.

Nick squinted at Gray. You serious? “I’ll let you get back to…”